The Year We Fell Down: A Hockey Romance (The Ivy Years Book 1)
The Year We Fell Down: A Hockey Romance: Chapter 17

—Corey—

The text came in about ten minutes after my first Shakespeare lecture got underway. Everything OK, Callahan?

It was rather rude to text during class, but after Hartley sent a second one asking after me, I hid my phone in my lap to answer him.

Fine! Sorry! I owe you a call. Switched classes. See you later?

Directly at noon, just as Dana and I were discussing which dining hall to favor with our business, my phone rang with Hartley’s number. “Callahan!” he bellowed into my ear. “What do you mean you switched classes?”

“Sorry, Hartley.” I went with a little white lie. “When I went to buy the textbook, it was just like you said. Exchange rates and monetary policy. The book should have come with a semester’s supply of espresso drinks. I just couldn’t do it.”

There was a silence on the other end of the line. “So you just ditched?”

“What, you’ve never dropped a class?”

Another pause. “So, are you coming to lunch, at least?”

Then I heard the garbled through-the-phone sound of someone calling him in the distance. Someone with a shrill voice. “Hartley!”

“I think you have company for lunch, no?” I said.

“Well, sure, but…” I’d never heard him at a loss for words before.

“I’ll see you at dinner, maybe,” I said. “Or swing by later. We’ll play some hockey.”

When I hung up, Dana’s eyes danced. “You really cut him loose, didn’t you?”

“I guess so.”

“Playing hard to get?” she asked.

I shook my head. “It’s just pure survival,” I told her. “And it’s really not as hard as I thought it would be.”

—Hartley—

Houston, we have a problem.

I lay on my bed, staring at the steadily darkening ceiling. Classes were done for the day, and it was still that blissful early part of the term when only the overachievers had begun to do any homework. So I had plenty of time to overanalyze my friend’s behavior.

See, I didn’t think it was all that weird that Corey didn’t call me once over break. Ours was not a phone-based friendship. But when she got back, she didn’t stop by. And then the ditched lunch, and the dropped class? It couldn’t all be coincidence.

Corey was avoiding me.

Why would you complicate our friendship? She’d asked me that question, and I’d given her some smartass answer. But, hell. If I knew she was going to drop me like a puck, I wouldn’t have gone there.

I should never have gone there.

As I lay there worrying about this, the dusk turned to pitch black. My phone lit the bed with a text message from Stacia.

Dinner?

It was five-thirty, and my stomach growled its approval. But I didn’t text her back because there was something I had to figure out. I got up and put on a jacket. Then I crossed the hall and opened the door. Dana and Corey were sitting hip to hip on the sofa, a laptop in front of them. So far as I could tell, they were watching cat videos on YouTube. “Dinner time, girls,” I said. “Shake a leg, it’s pasta bar night.”

“Shake a leg?” Corey asked. “Did you really just say that to me?”

“I was being ironical, Callahan. Seriously, now. That line gets long. It’s hard on a gimp.”

Dana and Corey shared a glance that I could not interpret. Corey shrugged. Then Dana snapped her laptop shut. “Okay. I’m in.” She tossed Corey her coat and put on her own.

Together, we headed into the crisp January night. Maybe she wasn’t avoiding me after all.

“I heard we’re getting snow,” Corey said.

“That ought to make the morning commute fun,” I complained. It was nice to be out of a cast, but I still wasn’t one hundred percent.

“Oh, it will be worth it,” Corey said. “I love snow.”

“I can’t wait,” Dana agreed.

“What kind of happy pills are the two of you on?” I asked, dragging my cane between steps. The end of the day still made my leg ache. “You should score me some.”

“We’re just high on life,” Corey said, and Dana shot her an amused look.

When we got to Beaumont, Corey and I took the service elevator together, while Dana nabbed us a spot in line. “You know,” Corey said as the ancient lift began to move, “I’ve missed the comforting sound of these gears grinding.”

“Me too.” Since she sounded just like old times, I began to relax.

Until Stacia arrived.

We were seated and tucking into our pasta when my girlfriend plunked down next to me. Without a word to Dana or Corey, she opened with a complaint. “Hartley, you didn’t return my text.”

I went for the innocent look. “Sorry, hottie. What did you need?”

She tossed her hair. “Well, the hockey team has Friday off, and Fairfax is having a little party. I told him we’d be there.”

Dana and Corey exchanged another loaded glance. And I didn’t blame them. Stacia wasn’t the warmest creature. I wiped my mouth and thought over my answer. I’d rather not argue with her in front of my friends, but Fairfax’s party wasn’t that high on my list. “I don’t know about Friday, Stacia. Maybe not this time.”

Her perfectly-styled eyebrows wrinkled in distress. “But we have to. You can climb the stairs slowly. I’ll wait with you.”

Huh. While I was glad that Stacia had finally decided to remember my injury now that it was almost healed, that wasn’t really the problem. “I appreciate that. But I told Bridger that I’d go with him to the basketball game. Of course you’re welcome to come along. You too, guys,” I lifted my soda glass toward Corey and Dana.

Stacia pouted. “A basketball game? What about Fairfax?”

I didn’t want to go there, but she wasn’t going to let it drop. “What about him? He hasn’t been that good a friend this year, if you want to know the truth. Hell, my digital teammates on RealStix have been nicer.”

“Oh!” Corey slapped the table, and then turned around to get into the bag on the back of her chair. “Hartley, you just reminded me. I’ve had this in my book bag since before break.” She dug out a small package with Happy Birthday paper on it. “Somehow I didn’t get around to giving it to you on your birthday. I’m not sure how that happened.”

She met my eyes then, just in time to see me freeze up. Damn, I wasn’t ready for that. My neck got hot as I took the gift from her hand. “Thanks, Callahan. You shouldn’t have.” I set it down on the table and picked up my drink.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” she asked. “It’s not, like, sex toys or anything.”

Because I’m suave like that, I actually choked on my soda.

“Good grief, are you okay?” Stacia asked, whacking me on the back. She was the only human alive who could manage to sound pissed off that her boyfriend was struggling for breath.

“Went down the wrong pipe?” Corey asked.

I nodded, coughing.

“I hate that,” Dana said. Something in the tone of her voice made it sound like she was enjoying herself.

I was in deep shit. And it was entirely my own fault.

Manning up, I slid my thumb under the edge of the wrapping paper on Corey’s present. When I tore it back, I looked up at her again. “Aw, you got me the new RealStix?”

“I did.” She smiled for real this time. In fact, it was the first smile I’d gotten out of Corey since The Weirdest Night Ever. “It’s pretty much the same as the old version — but with all the recent draft picks.”

I rubbed my hands together. “I’m going to be unbeatable.”

“Please,” she said. “As if.” Her eyes sparkled, just the way they were supposed to.

Stacia scowled at her plate, saying absolutely nothing.

—Corey—

“Oh my God,” Dana said once we got home, her voice low enough that we couldn’t be heard in the hallway. “That was hysterical!”

I tossed myself from the chair onto the couch. “I’ll admit, that was fun.”

“You are a fierce competitor. I had no idea.”

“That’s not even the point,” I admitted. If I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t have bought the game for Hartley. Inviting him in for more hockey did not fit with Operation Forget About Him.

“Well, then you have perfect comic timing,” Dana giggled. “And did you see her when he said he wouldn’t go to the party? She all but stamped her foot.”

“I know,” I whispered, but then shook my head. “And yet, he’s still with her.”

We were both quiet for a minute. Dana came over and sat beside me, tucking her legs up Indian style, the way I used to do. “You know what? I think it’s going to be okay either way.”

“How so?”

“Well, either Hartley will realize he’s a fool to be with her, no matter how attractive she is on the outside. That’s what I hope will happen.”

“Or?”

“Or, you’re going to stop caring. Because, honestly, she makes him less interesting. You two used to gab all the way through dinner. And now you don’t, because she’s a drag on him. In the meantime, some other guy will catch your eye, someone who knows his own heart.”

“That would be nice,” I said.

“Which thing?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“The first one, of course.”